


Dean’s Special Someone

by Daisy1600



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Acquaintances to Friends to Lovers, Daniel is a good friend, Dean is in denial about his feelings, Hurt/Comfort, I’ll add tags as I go, Kevin the Yorkie - Freeform, M/M, Pining, Slow Burn, UST, Whump, roman is protective of Seth, their mailman sucks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-03-12 23:38:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13558011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daisy1600/pseuds/Daisy1600
Summary: After being fired from his job for lying about the origins of a sever shoulder injury, Dean began working from home. And it turns out that he has an incredibly active, and not to mentionattractive, neighbor with an incredibly annoying dog.Or their mailman sucks ass and constantly delivers Dean and Seth’s mail to each other’s addresses, forcing them to interact until they get to know one another and they eventually come to the conclusion that they like being in each other’s company.





	1. Distractions, distractions...

Dean had sustained a severe shoulder injury from going to fight club at night after a long day of work at the office where he had been a software engineer, which led him to having to make up an excuse to tell his boss and he’d ended up telling him that he'd fallen down the stairs on the way up to his house one day. 

Needless to say, that conversation had ended in him being fired, and he'd had to look for work elsewhere.

He was good with stuff like computers and phones, so it was only logical that he'd get a job doing something that had to do with one or the other. His friend Daniel had suggested being a transcriptionist since it meant he could stay at home and watch TV all day. Kinda. He had to watch a wrestling show and transcribe everything the people were saying, and it kinda bothered his bum shoulder, but a hot shower and some arnica salve usually helped in taking some of his pain and discomfort away. 

After he'd gotten the job and knew what exactly he was supposed to do, he decided his little set up would be in front of a large window in the den, since it had good lighting and made him feel a little bit less like a hermit. And one morning, while he had his headphones on and was watching a video clip his employer had e-mailed him, ready to type all the trash talk the guy was spitting into the microphone at some other dude, he glanced up only to see one of his neighbors walking their small dog down the strip of sidewalk directly in front of his window. 

He'd never properly introduced himself to the man before, never had a conversation with him that lasted more than fifteen seconds, but he lived across the street from him and had occasionally seen him outside his house picking up mail, always holding the little dog in his arms. He's pretty sure the breed is a yorkie, but he isn't all that well-versed on subject of small yappy dogs. 

There was also that one time he'd seen the man who was currently shirtless, medium-length hair tied in a low bun, dropping some mail off on his doorstep that'd been sent to his house by mistake. Dean may or may not have been wearing a sling for his arm along with a five o'clock shadow and a bathrobe at the time, opening the door and giving the man a blank stare as he dropped off the magazines and spam, the fucking dog cradled in his arms. 

He let out a loud huff, replaying the last thirty seconds of the video clip and typing what the man was saying before he could get distracted by shirtless men walking tiny dogs again. 

It was half an hour later when he was taking a short break from listening to the video and typing until his shoulder was all but begging him to _stop_ , that he'd got up and stretched a bit before making himself a plain and simple turkey sandwich with lettuce because he's a healthy son of a bitch. He'd also grabbed a beer out of the fridge to go along with it since it was a Monday and he had no friends and nowhere to go, so why not get buzzed? 

He'd just finished his sandwich, brushing crumbs out of his light stubble and lifting the beer can to his lips, when he'd made the mistake of looking up and seeing the man from earlier jogging past his house rather than just walking. The yappy little dog now cradled in his big, bulked up arms. Guess he's trying to get his and his dog's workout done all in one trip. He's indeed one strange, strange man. 

He mopped up the slight mess of liquid he'd spat on the table using a random shirt he'd found on the floor before putting his headphones back on and cranking up the volume up on his laptop to drown out all potential distractions. 

-

The man had continued walking his dog every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday since the first time Dean had witnessed the strange sight. Why the guy continued to walk his tiny pooch only to jog home holding it, he didn't know. He himself had never been much of an outdoorsy kinda guy, usually just went to the gym and hit the treadmill for a couple of hours after a lazy week. He also didn't get the whole 'dog being your best friend' thing. He never had a pet. Never really had a family or a home either. 

And even now that he has a place to call his own he doesn't feel much of a pull toward adopting a pet. He sees golden retrievers and.. uh, other big and small dogs alike with their owners, looking happy as clams when they go on walks together, yet he feels no need to have a bond like that with an animal himself. 

Suddenly remembering he had _work_ to do, he rewound the last three minutes of the video he was watching and forced himself to start paying attention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whelp, this was just the introductory chapter, hence why it’s so short. I have approximately 55k more words written for this story that’s just been sitting in my notes for the last couple of months, so lmk if you guys want more!


	2. Numero Dos

A couple of weeks later found him having to leave the comfort of his home to fetch the mail. Instead of wearing nothing but boxers, a wife beater, and a ratty old bathrobe, he actually made the effort to dress up. Kinda. He was wearing jeans that were.. semi-new, as well as one of his favorite black hoodies that wasn't too shabby, though it wasn't something he'd wear out and about. He'd at least put on one of his newer, more clean and un-stained hoodies that was more form fitting. 

But none of that mattered since all he needed to do was walk the thirty feet to the end of his driveway to collect spam and some drama filled magazines he sometimes read while sitting on the toilet. 

He opened the front door, stepping out onto the front porch and doing a once-over of the neighborhood before sneakily fast-walking toward the end of the driveway where his choo choo train mailbox was located. It was a lame little gimmick Daniel had given him as a house warming gift when he'd moved in a few years ago. 

He eventually made it to the mailbox, opening it up and taking out all of its contents. He tiredly flipped through it on his way back up the driveway, seeing bills, junk, more junk, a men's fashion magazine, and- a baby shower invitation for a Seth Rollins. 

He stopped in his tracks, flipping the letter over in his hands a couple of times before hesitantly reading the address neatly scrawled on it. Of fucking course it was for the man who lives directly across the street from him. The same one he sees walk past his house three times a week at almost the exact same time. 

Swallowing his pride, he stomped his way back down the driveway and looked both ways before crossing the street. Once he was in front of the house belonging to the man he now knew to be Seth, he pounded on the door with his good arm and waited a few agonizingly long seconds before deciding on giving up completely and preparing to toss the letter on the porch and go home when the door suddenly opened and a confused, slightly raspy voice rang through his ears. 

"Uh.. can I help you?" 

He turned to face the Seth guy, eyes narrowed at the tiny dog in his arms, hand extended. "Here," he muttered, beginning to shake the letter around a bit when the guy didn't immediately grab it. 

"Oh, uh, thanks, Mr....“ the man trailed off, adjusting his hold on the surprisingly calm dog, and looking both confused and intrigued. Strange, he should know his last name since he's given Dean his mail before.

"Dean. Call me Dean." He replied before turning away from the man and animal who jog past his house every so often. It seemed as though the Seth guy wore black thick brimmed geeky looking glasses when he was relaxing at home with his dog. Or at least before he left for work in the morning. 

"Seth. Uh, again, thanks for the letter, Dean. Wouldn't miss my best friends baby shower for the world." 

He glanced back at Seth, shrugging his good shoulder and muttering a reply he probably hadn't even heard. "S'nothing." He then went on his marry way, stomping his way back across the street where he went back inside his house and sat down at his little work station in the den. He couldn't help but look out the window and stare at his neighbors house for a minute. 

Soon enough, he got his head on straight and tossed his junk mail aside, focusing on doing his _job_ and putting his headphones on. 

He opened his e-mail and downloaded the newest video file he'd been sent. Setting his jaw, he zeroed in on the screen that had wrestlers kicking the crap out of each other. It was better than having the image of his shirtless, dog carrying neighbor stuck in his head. 

-

A month or so later, when Dean was minding his own business, just stepping outside his house at the crack of dawn to bring in his trash cans, he saw none other than Seth Rollins doing the same thing. Only this time his not-so yappy little dog wasn't with him. Instead, the little fur ball was sitting on the front porch, not making a sound as its owner dragged the black trashcan up the driveway and brought it around to the side of his house. When the guy came back for the blue recycling bin, he looked up and caught Dean in the act of staring at him from across the street. 

He tore his gaze away from the man he'd seen jogging outside his house three days a week (not to mention those times he'd watched him check his mailbox from the window in his den), grabbing his own empty garbage can and wheeling it up the driveway. When he went back for can numero dos, the blue recycling one, his neighbor was standing by his own front door, his tiny dog cradled in his bulked up arms. 

Dean stared at him for a moment, furrowing his brow and letting out a loud huff when the man shifted his pooch into one arm like weird girls in movies do, and waved at him with his free one. He quickly turned and dragged the bin up the driveway, not giving Rollins a second glance. 

Once he'd rolled the surprisingly heavy receptacle around to the side of his house, Dean went back inside and washed his hands before cracking his knuckles and getting a head start on what would end up being hours of work he'd been assigned to do.


	3. Grouchy Old Dean Ambrose

A few short days later Dean had just finished an extra long, grueling day of work and it was nearing seven o'clock at night. Earlier in the day, he had decided it was one of _those_ days. One of those days where you laze around in a flannel two-piece set of pajamas and do nothing but eat, work and watch your neighbor walk his dog from the window in the den before he has to leave for work. 

Seth had been wearing faded jeans, a plain old black t-shirt he's probably had since college, a burgundy button-up shirt over top of it, and a pair of worker boots that looked kind of like timberlands but were more than likely not since they looked to be steel toed. He also couldn't help but notice the yellow hard hat in his hands. Meaning that he’s either a construction worker or a stripper, though Dean's leaning more toward the first one. 

But that was hours ago, probably over eight or nine, so Dean shouldn't even be thinking about it anymore. So why was he? Its certainly not because he wants a dog himself, that's for sure. It's probably just that he sees Seth all the time and is curious what his occupation is. It's a perfectly normal, not at all weird thing for one neighbor to want to know about another. 

Sighing loudly, he shut his laptop and trudged on over to the fridge where he grabbed the half-eaten sandwich he'd left in there a few hours prior. He took it and the plate it was on over to the couch where he plopped down and groped the cushions he sat atop for the remote until he realized it was probably buried _between_ them and stuck his hand down the middle of the sofa, finding only lint, an old M &M and a nickel. 

"Fuck," he cursed aloud, setting his plate down on the coffee table to begin searching the room for the lost remote. After ten or so minutes of flinging crap around and shedding a few tears, he found the misplaced device in the fridge behind the mustard. Huh, he must’ve left it there when he stopped watching TV much earlier in the morning to make a sandwich before getting to work... 

Weird. 

Feeling rightfully irritated and possibly a bit.. melancholy, he sat back down and nibbled on his cold and gross meal as he scrolled through the recorded programs on the DVR. He stopped once he'd gotten to 90's house. The show was god-awful, but the drama was so entertaining and.. and juicy. 

As he sat back on the cushy couch and watched the trashy reality show, he couldn't help but feel like something was.. missing. No, not from the episode, but from his life. He felt as though there should be something, or rather, _someone_ sitting beside him watching crap television with him.

He could always beg Daniel to come over and sit through a half hour of bullshit with him, but that just really wasn't the guy's scene. He much preferred watching wrestling with Dean from time to time. Usually the show he transcribed for. And.. he hadn’t seen his friend all that much since his injury. He didn’t want to bother the guy, inconvenience him. 

Half an hour later, not a moment after he'd finished the episode and was about to fall asleep on the couch, there was a hesitant knock at the door. 

"Fuck, shit." He muttered, exhaustedly peeling himself off the couch and dragging his sock-clad feet across the floor and over to the door. He was wearing his pajamas but was far too lazy and comfortable to give a shit about what the person on the other side of the door thought of him. Plus, it was dark as shit outside aside from his porch light and a couple of dim street lamps. 

He wiped his hands that were slightly greasy from the sandwich he'd eaten earlier on his pants before undoing the two locks on his door and swinging it open only to come face to face with none other than Seth Rollins and his fucking dog that was cradled in his arms. Man, he really needed to find something to call the little dog other than a combination of a swear and the word 'dog'. 

"Yeah?" He grumbled, finding that he suddenly felt like hiding behind the door. For some inexplicable reason, he felt.. odd being seen in his pajamas in front of his neighbor. Which was definitely new to him, considering he's been seen wearing even less in front of him. Think boxers, a wife beater and a ratty old robe that's loosely tied. 

"Oh, uh, sorry if I disturbed you or woke you up or- or something, but-" Seth stammered, lightly scratching his pooch behind the ear as he stared down at the ground. Dean adjusted his position, opening the door a little wider to expose more of himself. He suddenly didn't feel so self-conscious about his own appearance when the bearded man standing across from him was still in his dirty, worn out work clothes he'd been wearing since he'd left for work earlier that morning. "Right, uh.. I received a package addressed to you by mistake and just got off work about an hour ago, hence why I’m here at such a late hour.” Seth then reached into his back pocket, pulling out a small cylindrical package and handing it over. 

Dean stared blankly at him for a moment, wondering what on earth he'd ordered online in the last six months as he turned the small item over in his hands. The shape and size of the package seemed as though.. it could be misconstrued as something used for- it looked like a fucking sex toy, okay? 

Dean snapped out of his thoughts at the knowledge that his lack of response could be taken as a bad thing. And, judging by what Seth said next, he probably had taken it as a not too great a thing. 

“Don’t worry, Dean.. I- I didn’t open it or anything. Just read the name on the package and didn't really have time to drop it off before I had to rush off to work 'cause my boss is kinda an asshole and breathes down my neck like a goddamn dragon if I'm even a _second_ late- uh, I'm rambling again.. sorry. Just-" he hiked up the dog in his arms and looked to the ground once again. "Sorry I keep apologizing- uh.. damn. Have a good night, Mr... Dean. Have a good night, Dean." 

"Ah, so my ketchup gun's finally here," Dean said aloud, finally realizing what it is he'd ordered a little over a month ago. And after a moment, he realized he was being just a little bit _too_ rude. He gets it, work is tiring and bosses suck ass. "Uh.. I appreciate you dropping this off, Seth. Was just falling asleep watching trashy reality TV anyway." 

"Oh, it’s nothing.. Dean. I uh, I like your pajamas." The man mustered up a tired, kind smile, gesturing toward Dean's old flannel pajamas with the hand that wasn't holding his dog he apparently took everywhere with him. 

He tried to ignore the 'compliment', since it sounded like a bit of a dig toward his appearance. Though he found it to be difficult not to let the man's words get to him and make him hide behind the door. He stood with his feet firmly planted on the hardwood flooring, looking the Seth guy in the eye as he spoke his next words. "What's with the dog? You take it everywhere or somethin’?”

Seth seemed to become a little uncomfortable, holding the dog in one hand and rubbing at the back of his neck with the other. His hair was tied in a low hanging bun, as always, and he had on a pair of black thick-brimmed glasses. Overall, the man looked exhausted and just about ready to keel over and die, or at least take a thirty-seven hour long nap. "Uh, well, I wouldn’t say _everywhere_ , but I try to spend as much time with him as I can outside of work since I can't exactly take him into a hard hat only area." He said with a wry chuckle. 

"So, you a construction worker or somethin’?" Dean wondered aloud, curious as to what his bearded, dog carrying neighbor's occupation might be. 

"Architect actually. A very busy, very tired one," the man made no move to leave, merely shifting his weight to rest on his other leg. Dean had noticed the way Seth seemed to favor his right leg. Especially when jogging. “What about you? Uh, I don't think I've ever really seen you outside your house much."

"Transcriptionist. Means I wrecked my shoulder wrestling in a shady part of town and my boss at my daytime job fired me, so now I work from home." He explained, watching as the man's expression turned from one of curiosity to sympathy. Or maybe it was pity.. He often times got looks of pity from people when he left the house wearing a sling to take some of the pressure off his bad shoulder, the only upside being that if he played up his injury a little, they usually let him cut in line at the grocery store.

"Oh, uh, I'm s- I mean, uh, that really sucks, man. But it's good that you can work from home. Means you have more time to.. do whatever it is Dean Ambrose does." 

"Hm, what do I do? Well, let’s see.. I don’t have any friends, I don't own a pet, and I work a nine-to-five job. But I guess you're right, solitude is a hell of a lot better than being around people who suck ass at being halfway decent human beings." 

Looking like he's just made the biggest mistake of his entire life, Seth's jaw dropped, his eyes widening almost comically as he took two steps away from him. "I- I- Sorry if I offended you in any way, Dean. That was not at all my intention, it just came out totally wrong and I-" 

"Stop apologizing and just go home and get some rest. You look awful. Like you've been run over by a truck or somethin’." Guess it was time for _Dean_ to go around offending people and making them feel bad. Though Seth didn't look.. offended per se, he looked more.. he looked like he'd taken it as a joke. 

"Feel like it too. Ah, night, Dean. Again, I hope my dog and I didn't disturb you." 

"Well, at least you didn't apologize that time," Dean muttered under his breath, though it seemed the other man had still heard him. "Get some sleep, man." He slowly began shutting the door as his neighbor smiled a tired, closed mouth smile and slowly backed away from the door before turning on his heel and cautiously stepping off the porch. Dean shut the door with a soft click, walking over to his den to watch Seth look both ways before crossing the street back over to his own abode. 

His neighbor wasn't as bad as he'd been expecting, and turned out to _not_ be a stripper. He was, in fact, an architect. Guess you shouldn't trust everything you see in Magic Mike. 

And porn. 

Dean now knew that Seth’s dog was a boy, but he still didn't know his name. Maybe Rex?.. No, too overcompensating. It's probably something like Jason or Marvin. 

He also couldn't help but notice how overworked and exhausted the man was. Not to mention how nervous he seemed. Maybe he thought that grouchy old Dean Ambrose would answer the door in his boxers, a dirty wife beater, a half-open robe and bite his head off for disturbing him at nine o’clock at night. Okay, he may have done the first thing a couple of times, but he’s made an effort since then to dress semi-decently most days and not scowl too intensely at his frequent visitor. 

He tossed his ketchup gun aside and lay back down on the couch to snuggle up close to a random throw pillow he had lying around. Which was very strange, as he didn’t decorate things in his house. Especially not with _throw pillows_. 

Lying on the couch, too lazy to get up and fall asleep in his own bed, Dean decided that that Seth guy was a halfway decent human being and that his dog wasn't nearly as awful as he'd initially thought it was. It was mild-mannered and maybe even a little bit cute. But just a teensy bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all the lovely comments! I did not expect this fic to attract as much attention as it has. :)


	4. Freudian slips

The next morning found Dean waking with a crick in his neck and a full bladder. Serves him right for falling asleep on the couch instead of walking the thirty feet it takes to get to his damn bedroom. 

Yawning, he rolled off the couch, regretting it immediately. He'd been typing on his laptop all day yesterday and had forgotten to apply arnica salve and use a heating pad on his bad shoulder before going to bed. Though the main issue seemed to be the fact that he’d fallen asleep on the unforgiving couch. 

Completely his fault, but he felt like blaming the universe instead. 

He hobbled over to the bathroom, draining the Loch Ness Monster before stripping himself of his slightly sweaty pajamas and stepping into the shower he'd let heat up for a good minute. Standing under the warm stream of water felt oh-so-relaxing on his tired and achy muscles. 

He only wished it could give his bum shoulder more than twenty minutes of sweet relief. 

Once he'd gotten to the point in his shower where he actually had to begin scrubbing himself down with his obnoxiously bright pink loofa (courtesy of Daniel) instead of just standing there and moaning at how good it felt to loosen up and massage his injury, he began feeling the beginnings of irritation and a strange sense of emptiness and.. longing? at having to bend every which way to try and get that one spot between his shoulder blades. 

He wished he had someone to help scrub that one spot for him... Hell, a loofa on a stick would suffice. Though he’d prefer one that wasn’t bubblegum pink. 

He allowed his thoughts to drift, let himself imagine for a moment how amazing it would feel to have someone else’s hands on him, scrubbing all the hard to reach places, and how that would eventually lead to a sensual massage.

The filthy thoughts sent Dean's mind straight to the gutter. Giving him the motivation he needed to rid himself of his morning wood. 

Thoughts of receiving such favors from someone invaded his mind every so often, though it was usually after going grocery shopping and meeting the eye of an attractive stranger he wouldn't dare speak to due to being wary of getting close to others and them ending up being awful human beings. So it was a bit out of left field that he'd be thinking of such things after not leaving the house for the last three- no, four days. The only person..s he's interacted with during that stretch of time have been the mailman and... his neighbor, Seth. 

He wasn't lusting after his mailman, that guys like fifty-fucking-seven years old, so that only left... No. Nope. He is _not_ getting hard thinking of Seth's hands on his body, he is simply wanting somebody — somebody being anyone but his architect neighbor or the mailman —, to get close to and possibly intimate with.

But it would have to be anyone but his neighbor, the guy who carries his fucking dog literally everywhere with him. Well, everywhere but the construction site he works on. Stripper construction workers are extremely sexy, like the ones in Magic Mike, but Seth was... No. He wasn't sexy and Dean did not want to get to know him as a friend or anything more. Seth is a decent human being but that's it. Nothing more. 

After finishing scrubbing away at his skin with pumpkin spice body wash (he stockpiled it, hence why he's using it to wash himself in the middle of February), he went on to wash his hair with cinnamon shampoo, which he _also_ stockpiled, since it meant he had to leave the house a lot less often. 

He soon exited the shower, wrapping a pink paisley printed towel around his waist (again, courtesy of Daniel, the little fuck), and though his hair hit just below his ears, he wrapped a towel around his head like a turban. 

He ignored the obnoxiously bright hued towel hanging low on his hips and got started on the rest of his morning routine which consisted of him vigorously brushing his teeth and half-assedly washing his face with a dollop of hand soap. 

Right as he was about to put on a pair of underwear, there was a knock at the front door. Groaning, he wrapped the towel back around his waist and padded across the house to answer the door, all the while working to disentangle himself from the large towel wrapped around his head. 

Water still dripping down his chest, he swung the door open, fully prepared to sign for a package or tell some bible-thumper that he knows God loves him unconditionally so they'll leave him alone. What he _wasn't_ prepared for was to see his neighbor who'd come to his house last night after he’d finished watching TV.

Once the initial shock had worn off, he closed the door a couple inches, hiding most of his body behind it for some inexplicable reason. Which was an odd thing for him to do, considering he usually didn't care who saw his exposed body, let alone his freaking chest. "Yeah?" He mumbled, noticing that the other man was wearing his typical work attire, the clothing looking very similar to what he wore yesterday. And, instead of his irritating dog, he had a hard hat in one hand and a magazine as well as few letters in the other. 

"Sorry I'm... uh, bothering you so early in the morning, but I'm late for work and my boss is literally gonna eat me alive if I'm not there in twenty- I'm rambling again, aren't I?" Seth shifted his weight onto his other leg, his nervous brown eyes landing on Dean's exposed chest before quickly darting away. "I'm apologizing again too, aren't I? Fuck... Uh, right, well here's your mail that the goddamn mailman can't bother to deliver to the right address... Uh, I really gotta go now. Dean." Seth’s dark, curious eyes once again found their way to Dean’s chest as the latter accepted the mail from his outstretched hand. 

"Right... Well, I appreciate your taking time away from driving to work to avoid having to face your bosses wrath to drop this off, sex- I mean Seth." 

"N-no problem, Dean-o- I mean Dean. No problem at all. Just didn't want to have to wait until tonight to drop 'em off and risk bothering you or waking you up or- or.. great, I'm rambling again. Anyway, have a nice day. Promise I won't bother you again." Seth took a couple of shaky steps in retreat, now holding his hard hat in both hands. 

There was no doubt in Dean’s mind that his little Freudian slip had made Seth feel uncomfortable. Or flustered. God, he was so dumb he could’ve smacked himself upside the head. But, instead of showing any outward reaction to his own stupidity, Dean chose to pretend he hadn’t just put his foot in his mouth and act like nothing happened. 

“You too, man. And hey, don't.. don't let that boss of yours get to you. He sounds like a real grade-A asshole to me." Dean smirked, finding it rather difficult to prevent it from turning into a full-blown smile. He felt confused. Why was he.. _Was_ he trying to make the guy feel better about his shitty boss? 'Cause that sure as hell didn't sound like him. 

"Bye, Dean." Seth smiled hesitantly, showing off a set of pearly white teeth. Dean couldn't help but notice the little gap between the two front ones. It wasn't.. bad per se, but it sure was distracting for some reason. 

"Later, man." Dean hadn't realized it until the words were already out, but he practically invited the guy over again. Hopefully, he's wearing more than just a towel the next time Seth has to drop off some mail. 'Cause knowing their mailman, there's _going_ to be a next time.

Seth broke eye contact to stare down at his boot-clad feet for a long moment; his nimble fingers fiddling with the hat in his hands. Then, without bothering to look up, he turned on his heel and scurried across the street to where his car was parked. 

Dean shook his head at the man's antics as he shut and locked the two locks on the door. He finished getting dressed then made a hotdog with tons of condiments for breakfast. 

And, after that was all said and done, it was time for work. 

Throughout the whole writing-down-everything-the-eccentric-announcers-are-saying process, he kept getting sidetracked thinking about his not-horrible interaction with Seth. Maybe their interaction was less.. weird? Bad? than usual because his dog wasn't around to be irritating and furry. 

He huffed, pushing all thoughts of his strange, dog-loving neighbor aside to focus on his _work_ , you know, the thing that pays the fucking bills? 

He has a physical therapy appointment scheduled for tomorrow. Meaning that he likely won't be in his den to see Seth jog past his house. But why would that matter anyway? It's not like he _wants_ to see that. It's nothing but a distraction from his work. 

Brushing hotdog bun crumbs off his hands, he adjusted his headphones and got back to work. A little less distracted this time. 

A few hours later he decided to finally go outside and check his mailbox. The damn choo choo train always threw him off, making him glare at the thing as he opened its little door and flipped through all the junk he'd been sent. Turns out he got not one, not two, but _three_ of Seth's letters. It's almost like their mailman _wants_ them to interact all the time. Though the rational part of Dean knows it’s just the mailman not knowing how to do his fucking job. His old age and the fact that he's foreign most definitely factoring into that equation. 

He contemplated running across the street to drop off the mail but thought better of it when he remembered the video he'd paused to check his choo choo train in the first place. He had a deadline and if he didn't get finished transcribing the damn thing by five o'clock.. well, he'd risk losing his only source of income. And damn, did it pay _well_. 

"Well fuck,” he muttered, closing his mailbox's hatch and heading back inside his house. He left the letters by the door in hopes he'd remember to drop them off before his neighbor arrives home later in the day so they wouldn't have to have some sort of awkward 'I saw you a few hours ago' type of interaction. Dean _really_ hated those. 

By the time it was a quarter ‘til five, Dean was finished with work for the day; relieved that the wrestling episode he transcribed was only fifty minutes long rather than the typical ninety-minute ones. He sent the e-mail to his employer and closed his laptop, feeling exhausted and just about ready to lie down and never wake up again. Instead of being a responsible adult and grabbing the mail by his front door to drop it off at the house across the street from his, he walked over to, not the couch, but his bedroom and flopped down on his unmade bed. Rolling around in the many sheets and blankets until he looked like a multi-colored burrito. 

He came to many, _many_ hours later. The sun had long since set and his bladder was full. Meaning it must've been a little past eight or nine. Chancing a glance at his phone, he realized it was ten and he'd been sleeping for half the fucking day. 

He made a quick trip to the bathroom then slipped a coat overtop his hoodie before heading out the door and attempting to stealthily set the mail on his neighbor's porch without making a scene or alerting Seth or one of his other neighbors of his presence. 

He'd just set the mail down and was about to turn and head back home when a loud, gruff voice seized his movements.

"Hey, you!" 

He hesitantly turned to face the voice belonging to a behemoth of a man with long, dark tendrils of hair framing his chiseled jaw, who was staring him down and slowly coming closer and closer and _closer_ until he was only a foot away from him. He gulped but stood his ground, looking the giant, tatted up man in the eye as best he could in the dark of the night. 

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" 

"’Was dropping off some mail that got sent to me by mistake. Blame my ancient, foreign mailman. What about you, Big Dog? Never seen you ‘round here before." Dean narrowed his eyes at the imposing man, wondering if he was here to try and rob Seth. It wasn't very likely though, considering he called Dean out first. Most burglars don't call someone out when they themselves are trying to be sneaky and inconspicuous. 

"Ah, so you were just being a Good Samaritan, weren't you? Past ten at night, huh?" The man said, sounding rather accusatory. "And if you must know, I'm the best friend of the guy who lives here. Haven't got to see him a whole lot ever since my wife had a baby. Probably why you haven't seen me around much. You know, _if_ you even live on this street."

"Woah there, Big Dog. If you want proof I live across the street just look at the mail I set on the porch. The numbers are almost the same as my houses." 

" _I'll_ be the judge of that," the man muttered, bending over to pick the white envelopes up off the ground. "Well, it looks like your story checks out. But I'm still gonna ask Seth if he knows a big, hobo-ish looking guy with an attitude." 

"He knows you, doesn't he?" Dean raised an eyebrow at the man stood across from him, no longer feeling the need to try and keep his snarkiness at bay. 

"Hey-" the Big Dog growled, catching onto the dig Dean had made towards him. The man then sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, apparently feeling the need restrain himself like a good little attack dog that just had his leash shortened by a good foot. “Have a good night, sir." He finished, smiling a totally fake smile as he shouldered past Dean to get to the door. 

"Dean," 

"What?" The man turned to glare at him. 

"The names Dean, Big Dog." 

"Roman." The man he now knew to be Roman huffed out before reaching into his pocket to pull out a key. He unlocked the door and headed inside with Seth's mail in hand. 

Dean could hear the faintest of whispers come from the house as he walked across the lawn that looked almost blue at this time of night, and made his way home.


	5. What’s so damn special about Seth Rollins?

The following morning found Dean waking up a half hour earlier than usual so he could get ready, head out the door and arrive on time for his physical therapy session before his workday began. On his way out of the house, he noticed Seth exiting his own, his tiny little dog on a red leash. Dean contemplated ignoring the man and getting in his car before things got awkward when Seth took the initiative and walked over to the end of his driveway. 

"Hey, uh, sorry about last night. Uh, about my friend Roman. He's just... yeah. Anyway, I hope he didn't like scare you off or anything. Oh, and thanks for delivering my mail. That was very kind of you. Especially at such a late hour." 

"I've got thicker skin than you think, Rollins," Dean remarked as he unlocked his car. "And don't worry, s'nothing. I'd just woken up from sleeping all day anyway. Well, after I got all my work done, anyway." 

He noticed the guy's dog yank on the leash, trying to get his tiny little feet to take him and his owner further up the driveway and closer to Dean. Seth crouched down low to try and talk to his dog, maybe calm it down. "Not right now, buddy. We'll go for a walk in just a minute. After I finish talking to Dean." He rose to his feet, the little fur ball now calm and collected. Well, as calm and collected as a yorkie his size could be. “Right- no, definitely. Was just making sure ‘cause, uh... I know Roman, and I know how intimidating he can be when he wants to." 

"He's a big dog," Dean remarked, then realized how that could be misconstrued and added to it. "Uh, Roman, not- not the little furball at your feet." 

A smile broke out on Seth’s face and he chuckled, attempting to hide it behind his hand. "Well, that's one way to describe him. Uh, Roman." He backed up a few steps as Dean turned away and opened his car door. He didn't attempt to lower himself into it, just stayed put. Almost like he was waiting for his bearded neighbor to say one last thing before he had to go. "Well, uh, I think that’s really all I have to say. So, uh, have a nice day, Dean." 

"You too, man." He replied, finally stepping into his black car and shutting the door behind him. He for some reason felt.. like it had been necessary to give his neighbor a halfway decent sendoff. Even if the guy was just gonna be jogging around the neighborhood for a while before going to work, while he himself was just gonna go to a physical therapy session before coming home and working for many, many hours. 

He patiently waited until the guy turned away, smiled at the ground and walked out of his driveway with his little dog in tow to back out of the driveway and head in the direction of the freeway. He'd definitely be needing to wear his sling and ice his shoulder when he got home. Driving usually took a lot out of him and left him feeling drowsy and achy. 

He thought it strange that he was beginning to be more civil with his neighbor and actually greet him properly whenever they came face-to-face. He didn't do it to anyone else who lived on his block, so this begs the question: What's so damn special about Seth Rollins? 

-

He came home from his physical therapy session an hour or so ago and was now tapping his foot and typing while his thoughts drifted toward the subject of his neighbor. His dog wasn't all that bad, was actually kind of cute, and the man treated the little guy like he was his son. Dean had always thought it strange that someone could care that much about an animal that would die in like ten years, but seeing the way Seth was with his.. he came to the conclusion that it isn't all that crazy. Maybe a little strange, but not at all insane. 

He managed to get even more sidetracked thinking about how the shirtless man was drenched in sweat, panting as he came to a stop in front of Dean's house with his dog in his arms as he himself tried not to crash the car as he entered his driveway. He hadn't bothered to greet the man, just went inside his house and grabbed his reusable icepack out of the freezer. He'd ended up laying face down on the couch, pressing the cold pack to his bad shoulder for twenty minutes. Afterward, he put his arm in a sling to relieve some of the pressure it put on the shoulder and got started on work. The one thing he couldn't focus on because of one man and his freaking dog. 

Why did he keep getting distracted by Seth? He didn't get caught up in thinking of any of his other neighbors. Though the fact that he never ever interacts with any of them may be to blame. They were mostly old people, probably around the age his parents would be if he ever knew or cared about them. There were also some younger couples, ones with snot-nosed little kids. Luckily, those unlucky sons of bitches lived at the end of the street. 

He paused the video on his laptop, taking his headphones off to stare out his window at the house across the street. He wasn't looking at anything in particular, mainly just letting his eyes cross and his vision go a little blurry. He allowed his thoughts to drift far, far away from shore. He first thought about why he watched Seth walk slash jog with his dog three times a week. He doesn’t know why he does it, just that he feels kinda bummed out when he doesn't get to. He might've even felt a little... relieved when he had caught the man leaving for his walk earlier in the morning as well as when he came back from his jog. He was bisexual but that didn't mean he had the hots for his tall, bearded, athletic, tan.. probably single neighbor. He just didn't. 

Then more thoughts flooded his psyche, such as why he wasn't a complete jackass to the guy. What's up with that? He's naturally not a very nice guy, so _why_ was he pleasant with Seth? Hell, he was a bit of a jerk with the guy's friend, Roman during their strange interaction the other day. But he definitely wasn't.. civil with his neighbor because he _liked_ him. That would just be ridiculous. He didn't like Seth. He just didn't. 

And hey, what the hell was up with their interaction the other day? Dean may not be attracted to Seth, but it's pretty apparent the other man couldn't help but let his eyes wander. It's probably Dean's fault for answering the door shirtless and wet, but the sight of it didn't usually make his mailman get all nervous and distracted. It was possible Seth had a little crush on Dean but that didn't mean he liked him back. He just didn't. 

Many hours later, after he'd finished up with work and e-mailed the information to his employer, he decided it was time to give in and go grocery shopping. He begrudgingly took off his sling and went to his bedroom to slip a jacket on over his hoodie before heading out the door to his car. As he backed out of the driveway he noticed his neighbor, Seth, still wasn't home. He was probably just at work like he practically always is, but that didn't stop Dean's mind from wandering. Wondering where he could be. What? He was a very curious (nosy) guy sometimes. 

Shaking his head to rid himself of the weird and obtrusive thoughts, he continued backing out of his driveway and headed in the direction of the least busy supermarket in the area. He didn't like crowds much. They made him antsy, and he didn't like feeling like he wasn't in control of himself, his emotions or his actions. 

The supermarket wasn't too far from his house, but it could definitely be closer. It was kind of small and.. well, the people there weren't too friendly. But at least they don't chew your ear off talking about their lives and what your buying like the employees at Trader Joe's do. He avoided that place like the plague. Probably one of the main reasons he doesn't have any friends. But answer this; who would want to be friends with someone who tries to guess what you're making for dinner just by looking at the contents of your hand basket or shopping cart? That's right, fucking no one. 

He parked in the store's little lot, grabbing his three reusable bags and silently praying nobody would steal his car. The neighborhood wasn't the best one in the world, kinda looked a bit seedy after seven-ish. Lucky for him, it was only six-thirty. He lived in one of the nicer parts of town but thought the supermarket to be worthy of having to relinquish his safety for privacy. 

He entered the surprisingly cold building that somehow managed to penetrate all the layers he wore. That shit went straight through his Henley, his hoodie _and_ his jacket. Which was just plain _weird_ 'cause that doesn't happen when he's outside. It's literally only in the supermarket. It's like the place has some kind of magical freezing cold air that's goal in life is to slowly but surely kill you.

He covertly rubbed his hands up and down his arms to try and warm himself up for a moment before giving up and grabbing one of the relatively small shopping carts nearby the entrance. He lazily glanced around the desolate store before beginning to push it down the cereal aisle, grabbing a box of lucky charms and a box of cornflakes because he's fucking healthy like that. He had to refrain from grabbing a box of Trix 'cause if he did.. well, he'd have to stop and buy every unhealthy thing his heart desires. Speaking of unhealthy crap he keeps putting into his body, he really needs to start hitting the gym again. But that's kinda difficult when you have a bum shoulder that basically renders your arm useless for things other than driving, eating and typing. So, anything physical is a big no-no for Dean. 

Then again, you don't really need to use your arm for jogging on a treadmill... Ah, but if he jogs _too_ hard it could jostle his shoulder around too much and throw it back out of its socket. He had a fairly toned and muscular body before his career-altering injury — well more like career _ending_ , but let's not get into that right now — and now he‘s stuck sitting at a desk again. Not even able to exercise or go to fight club at night. It was a total bummer, losing muscle and gaining this annoying thing called fat. 

To sum things up; he was a little squishier than he was used to being. Though that could be seen as a good thing depending on who you ask. More cushion for the pushin', right? 

Moving on past the cereal aisle, he tried to forget his terrible puns as he turned to the pasta and noodle aisle. He felt like having macaroni & cheese for dinner and ended up grabbing six boxes, half of which were Disney shapes and the other half spiral since they just plain tasted better than the normal shaped ones. He then headed in the direction of the produce aisle, grabbing some lettuce and other such vegetables needed for making sandwiches before meandering his way through many more aisles of the supermarket until he finally got to the place he needed to be and grabbed some bread and hotdog buns. 

He had somehow forgotten to grab instant ramen and had to go back to the noodle slash pasta aisle to grab that, nearly colliding with another shopping cart as he did so. He slowly looked up from the floor, first noticing a pair of worker boots before he saw the little dog in the part of the shopping cart meant for children to sit in. Lastly, he saw Seth. The man was dressed in his work clothes that consisted of a charcoal grey t-shirt with a plaid flannel shirt overtop of it that was unbuttoned, and some well-worn jeans. 

He finally met the man's eye, feeling a little awkward since they'd already seen each other earlier in the day. 

"Dean-" 

"You brought your dog grocery shopping?" He asked in a tone that was more puzzled than it was accusatory. 

"Uh, yeah I guess I kinda did," Seth abruptly broke eye contact with him to stare down at his dog. "I just- I don't really get to see him all that often since I'm always at work- right, rambling again... Uh, I went home and brought him here since it's the only supermarket in the area that allows dogs and.. yeah. Sorry, you didn't ask me to tell you all that and I kinda just chewed your ear o-" 

"Look, it's fine, man. Was just wondering why you'd want to bring your dog with you s'all." 

"Right. Well, uh, I'm sorry for quite literally bumping into you, Dean. Guess I'll see you around? What am I even talking about- we literally live right across the street from each-" Having heard enough of Seth’s admittedly painfully awkward rambling, Dean cut him off by pushing his cart around Seth's and placing a hand on the man's forearm. 

"It's fine, Seth. No reason to get all flustered and nervous about it." Dean assured him, for some reason hoping it would make the guy feel better and less anxious. He wondered why it was the guy got all nervous and flustered to begin with. Was it possible his neighbor really did have a crush on him?...

"Right- no, right I-I knew that. I totally knew that. Uh, you have a nice, quiet evening, Dean. Promise I won't bother you again." Then he smiled. Seth smiled and Dean immediately pulled his hand away from his arm as if the firmly muscled bicep had burned him. 

"You too." He mumbled, pushing his cart the rest of the way down the aisle and completely forgetting what it is he'd come there for in the first place. He quickly headed towards the checkout, saving a whopping fifteen cents for bringing his own bags. 

As he exited the building and headed towards his car with his bags in hand, he couldn't help but glance back at the building behind him. He saw Seth at the checkout with his little dog in his arms, the cashier scanning multiple packs of instant ramen. Huh, guess they did have similar tastes. 

He let out a little laugh before tearing his eyes away from the scene and forcing himself to stay vigilant as he walked towards his parked vehicle. You never know who could be lurking in the shadows at this time of night. Especially in the seedy neighborhood the supermarket was in. 

He stuffed his bags in the backseat before crouching down to be able to fit into his little clown car and inserted the key into the ignition. But before he could turn it and start up the engine, thoughts of Seth and his tiny little dog invaded his mind. Strange thoughts that had to do with their well-being. He wondered whether or not they'd be able to get home safely. What if some thug caught them on the way to their car and tried to steal his dog? What if.. He stopped that train of thought since it made it seem like he cared about them. He didn't care about his neighbor or his dog. He just didn't want them to be murdered at seven o'clock at night. Wouldn’t be much a good send off for anybody. 

And that's what brought him to ducking down low in his car, waiting until Seth exited the supermarket with his dog in one arm and four heavy looking bags in the other. Damn, all that architect-building shit stuff he does for a living must've made him strong. Not to mention all that jogging he does three times a week on top of all that. Shaking his head, Dean focused on the bearded man setting his groceries in the backseat of his car then buckling his dog into some sorta weird dog car seat contraption thingy in the front seat before he himself buckled up and exited the lot. 

Dean waited a couple of minutes before buckling up and taking an alternate route to get home. It took a couple extra minutes but it was worth not getting home at the same time as his neighbor and having to awkwardly see each other for the third time that day. Well, fourth for Dean. He'd watched a sweat-soaked Seth come back from his evidently tiring jog from the comfort of his den. Wow, that sounded a _lot_ less creepy eleven hours ago. 

He ignored the thoughts of his tanned, muscular, sweat-soaked neighbor that managed to enter his mind as he got out of his car and glanced across the street to see said neighbor entering his house and flipping the lights on.

God, what was getting into Dean? First he tried to make the guy feel better at the supermarket, then he watched him leave the place to make sure he wouldn't die, and _then_ he started fucking thinking about him on his morning jog for no goddamn reason! Ugh, he needed dinner, a hot bath, and a good night's sleep. It would probably help in combatting thoughts of his neighbor who most likely had an unrequited crush on him. Emphasis on 'unrequited'. 

As he cooked dinner he thought of the episode of that famed wrestling show he'd transcribed earlier in the day before his thoughts drifted back to ones of his neighbor. He wondered what the man would be having for dinner. Considering how many packs of ramen the guy had bought, he'd guess he was probably eating that crap right about now. 

Without a second’s hesitation he left the pot of softening Cars shaped macaroni alone to stand in front of the window in his den. He'd gotten there just in time to squint out the window and catch sight of his neighbor opening his front door and gathering his.. guest in a bear hug. It looked to be the same man from the other day. What's his name? Reggie? Raymundo? Ramoan?... Roman! Right, Roman. The Big Dog he very nearly got in a fight with. 

He lingered a moment longer before heading back into the kitchen to stir the noodles before they could stick to the bottom of the pot and ruin his dinner.


	6. Building Up Stamina

A couple of weeks later found Dean stepping outside his house to check his mail at the same exact time as Seth did. He continued walking down his driveway, trying not to psyche himself out and run back inside at how awkward their interaction would be if they were to speak to one another. 

You see, the other night Dean had, again, received his neighbors mail. Like, _all_ of it and had to wait until it was past eight o'clock to drop it off at Seth's since he'd fallen asleep after getting all his work done for the day. 

He'd also had a revelation. 

_When Dean finally mustered up the strength to peel his lazy ass off the couch he slipped on a jacket and headed out the door. It was quite dark out, would've been pitch black if not for the street lamp one or two houses down from where his was located._

_He beat around the bush for a couple of minutes, wondering what he'd say to his very athletic neighbor he'd interacted with every day since their run-in at the supermarket. You know, when Dean had literally run into the man's shopping cart with his own and stalked him outside the place to make sure no one would try and steal him or his dog._

_With great difficulty he brought his knuckles to the door, lightly tapping twice before steeling himself and repeating the action but with more force. He heard footsteps coming and ran a shaky hand through his hair, which only seemed to mess it up further. Maybe he should've put a hat on to hide the unruly mop attached to his scalp, like one of the beanies he owns. Probably would've made him look a bit more homeless but it'd probably have been better than looking like a lunatic without a grip on his life. Wait, why did he suddenly care about how he looks? Why on earth would he care what Seth thought of him? They weren't friends. Hell, they were hardly even acquaintances. So why did he suddenly feel like he was... lesser? Like he wasn't good enough to be in his presence?_

_"Oh— hello, Dean." Seth breathed out, running a slightly shaky hand through his sopping wet hair. He closed the door minimally, trying in vain to conceal his bare chest that glistened with droplets water. He'd evidently just stepped out of the shower. It's almost like a roll reversal, going back to when Dean had answered the door in the same fashion a few weeks —possibly even a month — earlier wearing nothing but a towel._

_He noticed the tiny little dog standing by his feet, staring up at Dean unblinking. The same little bugger who'd been sitting in Seth's shopping cart he'd bumped into two weeks prior. The same fur ball he'd stayed behind in the parking lot to make sure it wouldn't get stolen. He didn't know the thing’s name, but he did know the little guy was suddenly starting to get on his nerves for some reason._

_"Uh, did— did you need something? I'm kinda— I'm sorta not really dressed right now, so if you could make this quick...” Seth trailed off, uncomfortably shuffling from foot to foot._

_"Right— right...” Dean cleared his throat, tearing his eyes away from the smooth, muscled planes of Seth's chest that was hairy but not _too_ hairy. He was confused as to why he'd been staring at the man's chest in the first place. He didn't like, _like_ him, so why was he getting flustered all of a sudden? It's probably just because they'd seen each other every single day since that one night at the supermarket where Dean had... touched his arm for a second or three too long. But it was completely platonic. "Uh, here. That's yours. The mailman fucked up again. Which is no surprise, considering... Uh, yeah." _

_Seth reached out and grabbed the magazines and letters, turning away and setting them down before reappearing once more with the same amount of items if not more. "I was, uh, planning on waiting until after I was done showering to give you this, which I am now... but, uh, you're here now, so...”_

_"Appreciate it." Dean nodded shakily, clearing his throat and accepting the bundle of mail from his neighbor’s outstretched hand. "See ya 'round, man."_

_"Yeah, later, Dean." Seth smiled softly, very politely asking his dog to back up a few steps before closing the door. Dean stood still for a moment, first staring at the door where Seth was once standing then turning his attention to the porch. He stared down at the stone architecture a moment longer before pulling the mail he'd been handed closer to his chest. He felt slightly woozy as he made the short trek across the street. One he'd made it inside, he dropped the magazines and letters on the floor by the door. He forced his feet to move, made himself make it to the couch before falling down._

_He now knew that there was no more making up excuses or writing things off. He had to accept was was blatantly obvious to the naked eye._

_He has the hots for Seth freakin’ Rollins._

Coming back to present time, Dean shook his head to rid himself of the thoughts, feelings and memories from last night that invaded his mind; threatening to take him under and drown him. He managed to come up for air and bring himself to open his choo choo train mailbox. When he glanced up from the grass covering his lawn, he saw that Seth was already looking right at him. The man sent him a slight wave, a seemingly nervous smile on his face. 

Dean gave a slight, two-fingered wave of the hand in return before turning back to the mail in his hands to begin flipping through it as he made his way back up to his house. He didn't make it two steps before coming to a complete stop at the coupons and letters addressed to his neighbor that he evidently has the hots for. He turned on his heel and began walking toward Seth at the same time as the other man. 

He couldn't find it in himself to make eye contact with him, too caught up in thoughts of what went down the night previous. Dean now knew he was physically attracted to his neighbor. Maybe he'd known since they first met and he'd tried to squash down those thoughts and feelings, deny what he truly felt. 

How could he possibly face him? Especially now that he knew Seth probably has the hots for him, considering he'd done the same thing as Dean had done last night. Stare at his bare, toned chest, watching droplets of water slide down and fall to the floor... God, was he sexually frustrated by that man. Maybe... maybe that's one reason he started watching him go on jogs in the morning three times a week. 

'Cause goddamn was Seth sexy... drenched in sweat when he was finished with his workout. Dean always watched him, and was bummed out when he couldn't. But that still didn't explain why he was so hung up on the guy's dog. What was so irritating about that yorkie? 

"Hey Dean," Seth smiled, bringing him out of his jumbled up thoughts. "I— uh, these are for you. I think we need to have a serious talk with our mailman 'cause this is just getting ridiculous." 

“At this point, I think he should just be fired." Dean quirked a wry grin, swapping mail with the tall, tan, muscled man wearing tight-fitted track pants and no shirt. Just like how he was shirtless the night before, though he wasn't wearing pants. It had only been a blue towel hanging low on his slim hips, not doing much to keep him modest. 

Dean awkwardly cleared his throat, looking past his neighbor and seeing the guy's little dog sitting inside his house, a thin red leash hanging off his matching harness. The little guy was quite obviously waiting for his owner to take him out on a walk. "Think the little guy's waitin’ for you." He gestured to Seth’s dog. 

"Right, right," Seth mumbled, glancing back at the little dog patiently waiting for him. "Hey, uh, I was kinda sorta wondering if you'd like to join me on our- my- my and my dog's walk?" He looked nervous, like he thought Dean would shoot him down and berate him for even suggesting such a thing. Dean probably would've done something along those lines if it had been anyone else but Seth. He was like that when he had the hots for someone. Liked to play favorites. 

Dean thought for a long moment before accidentally breaking out into a small smirk he desperately tried to hide by biting his lip. "You want _me_ , your grumpy old neighbor, to join you and your little friend on your guys' walk?" 

"You're not _that_ old, what are you, like, mid-thirties?" Before Dean could even think to answer, the other man continued. "Uh, I didn't mean to imply that you are grumpy, 'cause you're not that bad it's just— uh, I.. I, uh, we've been seeing each other around a lot recently and I kinda want to get to know you, if that's all right with you." 

He looked so goddamned nervous, so shifty-eyed as he scratched the nape of his neck where his hair was tied in a neat little bun. Great, not only did Dean find him irresistibly sexy, but he also thought he was kinda cute when he's nervous. And from the looks of it, Seth probably feels the same sort of attraction towards him. 

"But it's also, like, totally fine if you don't want—“

"Sounds like a plan to me, Seth," Dean said, affectivley cutting off his neighbor’s nervous and insecure rambling. "Lemme’ just drop this crap off at my place and change first." 

"Really?" Seth breathed out, sounding hopeful and disbelieving all at the same time. "I mean, I'll wait outside for you, Dean. Uh, not outside my house but, like, yours. I'm— sorry for rambling." 

"Stop apologizing," Dean called over his shoulder as he slowly walked across the street. He allowed himself a small smile and a laugh once he'd made it inside his humble abode. He had to admit Seth was kinda really cute when he got all stuttery and started apologizing to him. Though he also felt... agitated that his neighbor would ever feel the need to apologize for something he had little to no control over. It just seemed as if rambling was part of who he is, and Dean knows how difficult it is to pretend to be something or rather, _someone_ you're quite obviously not. 

He tossed his junk mail on the couch and quickly changed into some sweatpants that were surprisingly unstained, and kept on the shirt he was already wearing. He made it outside in record time, finding that Seth was standing at the end of his driveway, his little dog cradled in his arms like a newborn baby. 

"Ready?" Seth asked as he gently set his yorkie down on the ground. The little guy tugged on the leash, trying to get his two hundred-plus pound owner to get a move on. The bearded man merely chuckled and told his pooch to wait a second in a tone of voice one would use to talk to a baby when they're teaching them to walk for the first time. 

Dean tore his eyes away from the scene to meet Seth's brown ones that seemed to sparkle when the light hit them just right "Lead the way, Rollins." 

It was actually the other man's dog who led the way, moving his little legs as quickly as he possibly could. It didn't do much to hurry Seth along, but it made him laugh. "Ah, sorry about him. He just gets really excited when I take him out on walks. Or when I get to spend time with him." 

Dean felt the sudden urge to speed up his walking pace to match the dogs'. So he did, and Seth followed suit. Funny, they were walking side by side with a little fur ball guiding them down the right path. "It's fine. I mean, I'm kinda glad to be getting outta the house, too. Been stuck inside for the last couple of months and god knows I need the exercise." 

Seth hesitated a moment before asking the question that had probably been on his mind for quite some time. “Yeah, about that... Uh, you once told me about going to some underground fighting ring at night and that's how you injured your shoulder. I was curious to know more about it, if you don't mind. But please don't feel obligated to tell me if you don't want to, 'cause I know it's probably a very private thing—“ 

"I'll tell you 'cause you asked so nicely," Dean joked, cutting off the man's rambling. "I had been a software engineer ever since I graduated college in my twenties, and to make some extra cash, I started going to this late night fight club where people make bets on who's gonna win. It was a dirty gym with a ancient, rusty wrestling ring and lots of psychos ready to lay their money down on their favorite wrestler. And before you ask, yes, I used to wrestle in high school and college before I decided to get a degree in something I could use to make a living. Sure, wrestlings great, but once your body starts to break down you're screwed.

“So yeah, I made a good sum doing my fucking job and some borderline illegal stuff on the side. Not to be vain, but I'm a pretty damn good wrestler, and I stupidly thought I could juggle two lives. I _was_ able to until I was in the middle of a heated match and fell off the top rung of a ladder and landed on my right shoulder. Pulled it out of its fuckin’ socket. And me, being the stubborn son of a bitch I am, continued the match and tried to put it back into place myself. I ended up monumentally fucking the thing up, hence why you always see me wearing this damn thing." He gestured toward his sling. 

Seth turned to him, an amused smile on his face. He wasn't being insensitive to Dean's history, Dean in fact felt like Seth’s reaction was way better than other people's. He didn't like getting pity. "Why'd you have to change jobs? If you don't mind my asking."

"As I've already said, I ruined my shoulder. But the real kicker is when I lied to my boss at my daytime job, told him I fell down the stairs on the way up to my house. And as you'd expect, I was fired on the spot." 

"Dean, your house has like four steps!" His neighbor exclaimed, letting out a nasally laugh Dean couldn't help but think was adorable. Guess Seth really is more than just fuckable. Which isn't a good thing, 'cause Dean doesn't want to catch this terrible thing called 'feelings'. 'Cause once you catch _those_ things, you're absolutely fucked. 

"Right? I should've said I fell down the stairs at work, that way I could've threatened to sue 'em or something." He joked, liking the banter they had going. 

"Right, you _could've_ , but I think that's just a little bit illegal." 

"Shaddup," Dean nudged him with his elbow, hating the way he couldn't stop smiling while in the man's presence. It was scary, opening up to someone he hardly knew. Being himself around him. Especially since he kinda has the hots for Seth and the feelings are more than likely reciprocated. "Now that I told you about my job, I wanna hear 'bout yours. Tell me about your shitty boss, huh?" 

Seth let out a long-winded sigh, tugging on his dogs leash the slightest bit to stop the little fur ball from walking into the street before he could look both ways. They stood still for a moment, allowing a car to pass them by before crossing the street. "Well, his names Hunter, but he usually goes by Triple H. Probably thinks it makes him sound more intimidating, but I think it only serves in making him sound like even more of a douchebag. Anyway, he's constantly berating me, calling me names and making fun of me. Always gets on my case if I'm not early, or if I’m even a second late. He doesn't treat my co-worker Randy like that! It's only me he treats like garbage for some reason. Maybe it's because I'm— Yeah, uh.. I don't know why he does it." 

Dean could've sworn he was going to say gay, but that could've just been wishful thinking. Even though he's pretty damn sure the guy's at least bi if he has the hots for him. Maybe he was just uncomfortable talking about it, or maybe he just wasn't sure what Dean's thoughts on that kinda stuff was. Which is understandable as Seth has no idea he's attracted to both men and women. But wouldn't it be kinda strange to just ask the guy if he was gay? Would that be too forward or invasive? Dean wasn't even looking to get with him or start a relationship with him. They were just acquaintances and nothing more. Although, now that Dean thought about it, it wouldn't be so bad being his friend. But then it would be easier to fall down the rabbit hole and form an emotional attachment to him...

"You can tell me. I won't judge." He reassured his dog-loving neighbor. He was genuinely curious to see if his theory was correct and that he was in fact targeted by his boss in the work place for being.. well, not like everybody else around him. Which was an awful way to be treated for being yourself. 

Seth looked at him for a moment, studying his face to see if he was trustworthy enough to tell something that personal to so early on in their acquaintanceship. Smart guy, Dean'll give him that. "I think he targets me personally because.. 'cause I'm kinda out in the workplace." 

"That really sucks, man," Dean's throat tightened and his hands clenched into fists on their own volition. Why was he getting so worked up over it if he already knew it to be true before Seth had admitted it? Probably because no one deserves to get that kind of crap. That's some low-level shit right there. "You gay? Bi? Something else?.. You don't have to answer if you don't want to, but it's totally fine either way." 

His neighbor stayed silent for a moment, thinking loudly and contemplating whether or not telling Dean was a good idea. "I’m gay. Been out for years, but it's still hard every time I have to tell someone. I'm a pretty private guy, so I usually only tell people if it comes up or they ask or something." 

"Oh, makes sense I guess," Dean mumbled, now nervous and wondering if _he_ should tell Seth about himself. He bit the bullet and let slip one of the things he didn't typically voice aloud, even though he didn't really care what people thought about him. But he for some reason cared what his neighbor thought. Just him though. "Same goes for me, only I’m bi as hell. It's not a secret, but I don't go around climbing rooftops and telling the whole world I enjoy giving _and_ receiving blowjobs either.” 

Dean made the right call, as it lightened the mood considerably and got Seth to laugh. "You know, you should really consider a career in stand up comedy. I'm sure you'd make a lot of middle-aged men laugh." 

"Made you laugh, didn't I?" 

"Hey, I still got at least another decade to go before I can even be _considered_ to be middle-aged, Ambrose." 

"Oh really, Rollins? What are you, like, thirty?" 

"Thirty-one, actually, but that's not important." 

Dean would tell Seth he's the same age as him, but some things are better left a mystery. Based on his neighbor’s earlier guess, he probably thinks he's like in his mid to late thirties. Which makes sense, considering how grumpy and frumpy he usually is.

"Since I told you how old I am, you need to tell me how old you are." 

"Don't wanna," he mumbled, hands stuffed deep in the pockets of his sweatpants; his eyes trained on Seth’s dog. 

"It's only fair, Dean." 

"Fine," he sighed. "Thirty-one." 

"Are you being serious right now?" Seth looked at him, mouth hung agape. 

"What, did you think I was middle-aged or something? Is it my five o' clock shadow? Is it not working for me or somethin'?"

"No! No- it's just- I- Fuck, Dean," Seth groaned, taking a deep breath to clear his mind and try again. "No, I just meant.. I wouldn't have expected us to be the same age is all. You just seemed — and I don't mean this in a bad way — older and more mature than me. That's not a bad thing. I actually kind of like it. It's definitely a change from all the six year old bafoons I have to deal with on a daily basis." 

"Thought you said you were an architect? Now you're a kindergarten school teacher?" 

"I just think they act like kids all the time and my stupid boss is somehow all right with it. Randy especially acts like a childish douchebag who gets away with anything and everything and never has to show up early or on time— sorry, I'm getting— I'm getting carried away again. I shouldn't let out a load on you, my poor neighbor who probably doesn't want to hear about my shit job." 

"I told you about my shit life, so I think it's only fair I listen to you rant about your shit job. And boss. And co-workers. Listening to you talk is almost like getting free reality TV." 

Seth huffed out a wry laugh, nudging Dean and turning his attention to the pavement beneath his feet. He looked so goddamned handsome from this angle—

"You like reality TV?" Seth asked, pulling him out of his thoughts. 

"Who doesn't?" Dean replied defensively. 

"I didn't mean it in a negative way, Dean. I mean, I watch tons of that crap when I get home from work. Well, okay, maybe not _tons_ , but I watch a couple episodes until I fall asleep from exhaustion." 

"What shows do you watch?" Dean stepped over a root on the ground before he could trip over it while Seth avoided it on instinct, almost like he'd memorized every flaw in the sidewalk from all the times he's taken the same route. Which is probably exactly what he'd done. 

"Mainly the trashy ones with tons of drama. Let’s see, there’s Keeping up with the Kardashians, 90's house, The Millionaire Matchmaker, The Bachelor. There's lots more but I think you kinda get the gist of it." 

"I watch all of those. Usually alone on the couch covered in crumbs," Dean said without thinking. He sounded like a complete loser. "I honestly don't know why I just said that. Uh, I don't want you to get the wrong idea ‘bout me. You see, I'm not a _complete_ loser, just very loser-y—“ 

Seth cut him off to stop him from further embarrassing himself. "Same here, honestly. Hey, maybe you should come over sometime and watch with me?" The bearded man smiled, a hopeful look in his deep brown eyes that were trained on him for a long moment before he realized what he'd asked and looked back to the ground his where his dog stood by his feet. "You don't have to if you don't want—“ 

"Sounds better than being losers by ourselves." Again, Dean found himself smiling, being nice to his neighbor. He allowed himself a moment to show genuine happiness before forcing his lips to close over his teeth. He can't allow himself to catch feelings. He just can't. 

They continued walking in silence for another block, Dean keeping his hands stuffed deep in his sweater pockets, staring down at the ground. Seth all of a sudden stopped walking, his dog turning around to stare right up at him. The little guy didn't look confused, but more.. like he was waiting for something. 

"He need to shit or somethin'?" Dean questioned, coming to a stop and eyeing the little fur ball. 

"No, no—“ Seth laughed, bending over to pick up the yorkie and plant a kiss atop his little head right between his ears that stood tall. "This is just where I, uh, usually pick him up to start jogging home." 

"He got a name?" 

"Kevin," 

"Cute," Dean snorted, finding that the name made the little dog sound even more like he was Seth’s son. "Well, I don't mind jogging back. Been getting kinda chubby staying home and not being able to exercise the last couple of months." 

"You? _Chubby_?" Seth scoffed, adjusting his grip on the little fur— Kevin. "Since you probably need to build your stamina back up, I'll be sure to take it nice and slow, Ambrose." 

"Not necessary, Rollins," he pulled his good arm in close to his body, getting in the correct form for jogging. He began walking quickly to work up to the pace they'd be going at soon. "I've got _perfect_ stamina." He then began jogging, Seth letting out an 'oh' sound before moving to catch up with him. He took note of how good the guy was at keeping Kevin from bouncing around while he jogged. It was almost.. The word 'endearing' came to mind but he told it to fuck off as he hurried his pace. 

By the time they were halfway home, Seth was glistening with sweat. The clear, salty substance rolling down his chest and back in droplets. He had such defined abs... 

Dean suddenly felt winded and slowed to a stop, his neighbor doing the same. "You all right, Dean?"

"Fine, just need a-a minute." He panted, realizing that he was _really_ out of shape. But he still had really good stamina, just, uh, not when it comes to running. Too bad he hasn't gotten laid in months. 

Standing hunched over with his hands on his knees, panting in the middle of the sidewalk, Dean couldn't help but wonder if Seth was good in bed. Is he a top? A bottom? Versatile?.. He could make do with any of the aforementioned. But he wasn't allowed to sleep with his neighbor ‘cause once you start doing that.. you start falling asleep in their bed, and then you accidentally cuddle them in your sleep, and then you fucking realize how beautiful they look in the morning light and come to the conclusion that you're in love with them and have been all along. 

He didn't need to get his heart broken again, so he pushed the thoughts away for a later time. Maybe when he's alone and, well, lonely. 

"You good?" Seth asked, suddenly standing right in front of him with a hand on his shoulder. Dean nodded, sucking in deep breaths of air. He was immensely turned on and wanting to get as far away from his neighbor as possible to avoid popping a boner in front of him. There would be no hiding that. Especially not in his dark grey sweatpants. 

"M'good. Let's just go." He then started up his steady pace once more, Seth following suit. Running along the sidewalk helped keep out intrusive thoughts. He didn't realize it until it was too late, but Dean had outrun Seth and was bracing himself against his mailbox with his arm that wasn't in a sling, panting like he's never panted before. Even after having intense, physically demanding sex, he'd never been quite so exhausted and ready to pass out. 

"That's it, I'm helping you inside, Dean. You look like you're about to pass out." Seth set Kevin on Dean's front lawn, politely commanding him to sit down and stay put for a minute. Dean didn't protest as his bearded neighbor slung his uninjured arm over his shoulder and helped him up the driveway, leaning him against the front door and asking him for his house key. 

Once inside, Seth led him over to the couch where he gently eased him into a horizontal position. "I-I really gotta shower and get to work, but it was nice getting to know you a little better— or at all, Dean." 

"Ditto," Dean mumbled, taking his arm out of its sling and pulling his hoodie up and over his head only to toss it on the floor without a single care in the world. "And.. I appreciate you helping me inside, Seth. That was.. that was nice of you." 

"You really don't like saying thank you, do you?" The question didn't come off as rude to Dean, but as more of an observation. "Anyways, uh, you need anything else before I go?" 

A lot of thoughts entered Dean's mind in that moment. Thoughts that were most certainly not pure. He settled on asking for the bare necessities instead of the blowjob he allowed himself to fantasize about for around point three seconds. "Glass of water would be nice.”

"Be back in a sec,” Seth then disappeared into the kitchen, coming back a moment later with a tall glass filled to the brim with ice water. How Seth figured out how to use the ice function on his fridge, he didn't know, but he didn't let those fleeting thoughts keep him from sitting up and downing the entire glass within seconds. He immediately regretted his rash decision and let out a growl of sorts at how fucking cold it’d been. 

"Fuck," he rasped, setting the glass atop the coffee table and laying back down. "That shit nearly killed me, but uh.. t-thank— What I'm trying to say is—“ Dean struggled to get the words out and Seth merely held up a hand to stop him from further hurting his brain. 

"You're welcome, Dean." Seth smiled down at the wooden flooring, shifting his weight from foot to foot in a manner that Dean wouldn’t have noticed had he not been paying close attention. "Uh, I really do have to go now.. See ya around? What am I even saying, of course I'm going to see you around— we're literally neighbors and our mailman constantly fucks up, meaning that we—“ 

"Think I get what you're trying to say, Rollins," Dean said, cutting off his insanely attractive neighbor's rambling. "See ya 'round." 

The other man awkwardly waved goodbye as he headed for the door. "Bye, Dean." He mumbled, opening it and softly shutting it behind him. Dean couldn't help but look at the tattoo running down his spine, and his tight little ass as he left. 

Now that Seth was out of his space and he was completely alone, he let out a low groan and ran a hand through his unruly hair, pulling at the short auburn strands in frustration as images and vivid memories of their jog invaded his mind and took control of him. 

It wasn't much later that he found himself standing under the hot stream of water his shower provided, one hand out in front of him to brace himself against the shower wall and the other wrapped around his throbbing cock. Furiously stroking it and fantasizing about someone else being in the small space with him, helping him jack off. 

With the image of his neighbor in mind, he came hard on his hand, stomach and the shower wall. He felt a little dazed and guilty afterwards and pretended he didn't just imagine Seth committing such lewd acts. 

He finished getting cleaned up and got dressed before scrambling an egg and getting to work. Being distracted by thoughts of a certain someone the entire time.


	7. Butterflies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oopsie... I totally forget/put off updating for over a couple of weeks now, so here’s an extra long chapter to make up for the delay! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy, and don’t forget to let me know your thoughts on this chap! :)

A few days later, while Dean was out grabbing his mail and his neighbor was doing the same thing in his workout clothes that were really only a pair of tight fitting joggers, Seth walked across the street to wordlessly exchange mail with him. 

"Hey, Dean, I.. I was kinda wondering if you'd like to—“ 

"If you say 'go for a jog', I'll probably end up passing out from exhaustion this time." Dean interrupted. 

"No, no-" Seth cleared his throat, glancing down at his little dog, Kevin, who stood by his feet. "I- I just.. I was just wondering if you'd like to come over to my place to watch some, uh, trashy reality TV tonight. It's fine if you don't want to, uh, there's no- there’s no hard—“

"I _was_ planning on watching that garbage by myself tonight, but I'm up for it if you are, Seth." He found his neighbor's rambling and nervousness to be awkward and cute, but he _so_ did not need to be thinking of that after he got off to the thought of Seth being in the shower with him not four days ago. He was allowing himself to get close and he needed to be careful. He was seriously being _nice_ to his neighbor. Not just courteous, but fucking nice! 

"Cool, cool, uh, I'll text— uh, tell you when I get home and am ready. To watch TV with you on the couch. At my house. Sitting a safe cushion away from each other." Seth explained, shifting around nervously the entire time. The poor guy was a complete and total wreck. There's no way he wasn't _at least_ physically attracted to Dean. 

"Maybe we should exchange numbers soon. It'd make planning things like this a hell of a lot easier." Too bad Dean had left his phone inside to charge since he'd forgotten to plug it in the night previous. Man, he really needed to stop falling asleep watching TV on the couch. 

"Oh.. uh, yeah, we totally should. But not right now, 'cause I kinda left my phone inside and don't really like taking it on jogs. It just— it moves around a lot in my pocket and I can't carry it because I have Kevin—“ 

"It's fine, Rollins," Dean interjected, finding that he didn't like the way the blush coating Seth's ears, cheeks and neck made his stomach feel. It felt kinda like seasickness, when you're riding all those big waves and you're rocking to a new rhythm that you're not used to and you feel... you feel like you'll never get your sea legs and you'll never be on steady ground again. You feel all hot and cold and you need something to brace yourself on as you empty your stomach in the ocean to finally rid yourself of that... that burning sensation in the pit of your stomach. Only he didn't feel like throwing up. He just felt seasick and needed something— or, rather _someone_ , to brace himself on. And it was goddamn terrifying. "I-I mean, I left mine inside, too. Always forget to charge the damn thing at night 'cause ‘m always passing out on the couch." 

"You know, that's not very good for you or that shoulder of yours, Dean." Seth was looking at him with those— with those eyes of his again. The enticing brown ones that glimmered in the sunlight streaming in through breaks in the clouds above. He needed to get back inside and throw himself into his work before he lost control of his inhibitions and allowed himself to become even more vulnerable than he already has. 

"Don’t you think I know that already?" He muttered, taking a step back and trying to keep his countenance in check. He may be feeling a million different emotions on the inside, but that doesn't mean he wants Seth to be able to _see_ them. 

"I sure as hell hope you do. That way, you'll get sick and tired of all the times you've woken up with a stiff neck or a sore arm and you'll feel more motivated to change your bad habits. And c'mon, you're not exactly a small guy, Dean, and sleeping on that... not small but not exactly big couch of yours has gotta be taking a toll on your back, right?" 

"Six-four, in case you were wondering. And yeah, it hurts like a little bitch. But you know, when you're watching TV you get tired —exhausted actually — and your bed just feels like it's a million miles away, so you kinda just lose any motivation you had to try ‘n make it to the damn thing in the first place? Well, that's me every night. Or every other night if it's been a good week." 

"Very funny, Dean," Seth mumbled, giving just the slightest eye roll. "But yeah, I get it. Just— at least try to take care of yourself, alright? You'll heal a lot quicker that way." 

"I mean, I guess I could give it a try, _Mom_." Dean laughed, a big, genuine smile spreading across his face at the scoff his words had pulled from Seth. 

"If anything, I'd be the cool uncle who thinks his nephew needs to get his shit together and take care of himself and his body. Uh— sorry if that came out wrong. Yeah, uh, I just don't like seeing people in pain. Kinda stems from past experience with injuries and rehab and... Sorry, Dean. I didn't mean to say all that. That was just a little _too_ personal. Uh, I really have go now. See ya later." 

Seth was about to turn and walk back to his place with his dog to presumably drop off his own mail before heading back out for a walk slash jog when Dean placed a hand on his shoulder and made him stay a moment longer. 

"Maybe it's because ‘m not like other people, not normal, but I... I kinda like hearing about that kinda stuff. And if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm a pretty good listener." 

"Thank..." Seth trailed off, looking uncomfortable before he took a deep breath and tried again. "Thank you, Dean. I'm also a pretty good listener, in case you ever need someone to unload on." 

Ignoring the slight innuendo, Dean mustered up a response. "You two have a good run." He then retracted his hand and headed back inside. Ripping open letters and checking this weeks Best Dressed list in a magazine he'd been sent for free felt almost therapeutic in the strangest of ways. It felt like routine, unlike being nice to one of his neighbors and actually talking to someone he was attracted to. All those attractive people he passed by in the grocery store on a weekly basis, he never approached. Never talked to. Ever since getting injured in the ring all those months ago, he'd avoided the public. Kinda avoided his friend, Daniel, too. He just— he didn't like looking or feeling weak, fragile or vulnerable. That just wasn't who Dean Ambrose was. 

Or at least not who he was comfortable with people seeing or getting to know. 

Hours later, probably a little after eight o'clock when Dean was laying on the couch twiddling his thumbs and waiting for Seth to come over and get him, he heard a knock at the door and adjusted his hoodie before opening it. As expected, it was his neighbor. 

"Hey, Dean." He smiled tiredly, now dressed in comfortable clothes and wearing his glasses instead of his work clothes he'd left the house wearing many hours ago. Oh, and his pipsqueak of a dog wasn't with him. 

"Hey," Dean mumbled in reply.

"You, uh, you ready to go?" 

"Been waiting for you a couple of hours now." He said without thinking, managing to surprise himself. He saw shock on Seth's face, but the architect was good at hiding it. "Ah, fuck, I mean-" 

"Oh God, Dean, now I’m kinda just imagining Kev waiting at home for me, but, like, _you_.”

"You calling me a dog or somethin'?" 

"No- I just- You just- What you said reminded me of him is all. But to be fair, a lot of things remind me of him, so." Seth shrugged, looking awkward and fidgety standing there on Dean's front porch. It was also freezing outside, so he always could've just been shivering, but if Dean knew anything about his neighbor — and he _did_ — he knew that the guy was perennially nervous, on-edge, awkward and fidgety in his presence for obvious reasons. 

"Then how 'bout we head over to your place so you can spend some time with that dog of yours?" 

"Are we still talking about you?... Or- or Kevin?”

"Do I _really_ need to answer that?" Dean deadpanned. 

"Kinda?" 

"I was talking about the little fur ball you call Kevin, obviously," he then turned the single light in his house off and shut and locked the door behind him. "Know what? Let's just go before you call me a dog again." 

Seth laughed, looking both ways as he crossed the street with Dean in tow. "If you were a dog, you'd be a big old one that sleeps all day and is kinda grumpy but is also secretly really sweet with his owner who's only ever home for, like, eight hours a day." 

"How cute."

They made it to the Seth’s house, Dean taking note of the lush grass he could hardly make out the color of in the dead of night, and the welcome mat beneath his feet. 

"Its not much, but its home." Seth said as he set his keys in a glass dish by the entrance of his humble abode. Dean took a look around from where he stood by the coat rack, taking in the overall appearance of the other’s home. It felt.. cozy, like it was a real home with love in it. "Kevin!" Seth crouched down to pet the little yorkie who came running to him from wherever it is he'd been hiding out. "Oh, buddy I missed you! Even though I've only been gone for five minutes. But to be fair, I _was_ at work for fucking forever before that." 

"Wow. You really love the little guy, don't you?" 

Seth looked up at him, smiling softly with a look of... fondness? in his eye. It made Dean feel seasick again and he needed to sit the fuck down before he collapsed in the middle of Seth’s living room 

"He's my baby, Dean." 

"Mind if I sit down?" He said, already walking toward the couch on unsteady feet. 

"Y-yeah. Uh, are you alright?" Seth picked Kevin up and approached him. Dean fell backwards onto the couch and grabbed a nearby pillow to hold against his stomach and grip tightly. Something he used to do a lot back in high school to conceal a boner when he went over to his crushes house to 'do homework'. If you ever went to school, you'd know it was never _just_ homework. 

"M'fine, just a little tired. But I’m ready to watch garbage with you two, if you are.” 

"Okay, well I'm just gonna go grab a couple of blankets ‘cause gets really cold in here at night and feels like a literal icebox. Right, gotta stop getting distracted and grab those...” he then left the room only to come back a couple of minutes later with what looked to be three or four big, fuzzy blankets. He handed the least gay looking one to Dean. 

Instead of thanking Seth like any normal person would've, Dean tipped his chin up at him and mumbled a string of unintelligible words. He unfolded the impossibly fuzzy blanket and wrapped the thing around his shoeless feet and exhausted, aching bones. He could really feel that draftiness of the room Seth had mentioned once or twice. And damn was it _cold_. At this rate, he'd be needing one of those other colorful blankets and a warm body to hold. 

He could live without that last one though. 

The TV was soon turned on and Seth selected the newest episode of 90's house. He really hoped that asshole Prince went home. 'Cause that guy was nothing but trouble and was also totally gay and trying to hide it. Wasn't working too well, but he had everyone in the house void of technology fooled. Heh, they probably all have an IQ of fucking ninety. 

"You're okay with watching this, right?" Seth asked, adjusting his own blanket and trying to ignore his whining dog who sat on the floor. Dean felt almost bad for the little guy whose dad is always at work and therefore doesn't get to spend much time with him. Hell, even Dean’s cutting into their dog-owner bonding time. 

"Yeah, I like it. Lot's of anger, violence, drama." He replied distractedly. 

"Very funny Dean," Seth huffed out a laugh, no doubt ironically. His dog was still distracting, what with his whining and high-pitched little barks. "Uh, do you mind if he sits here too? He just— he's kinda annoyed with me 'cause I've been gone all day, and I kinda promised I'd spend more time with him. Kinda embarrassing to admit but, uh... yeah." 

"It's your house, man. If you want the dog on the couch, then the dogs gonna sit on the couch."

"Was just making sure." Seth said before folding himself in half to pick Kevin up off the floor and set him on his lap. He played the show and the little fur ball immediately crawled off of him and jumped onto Dean's lap. He wasn't sure what to do in that type of situation, so he stayed completely still and didn't breathe. "You good? 'Cause if Kev's bothering you I could always take him—“

"He's just a little dog, Seth. I can handle a tiny dog laying on me for... for a little while." 

"Well, alright, but if you get uncomfortable you can always just shoo him away. I'm sure he won't be _too_ offended. And besides, his grudges usually only last for about five minutes. Or until you give him a treat." 

"Yeah, but I don't _have_ any food." 

"You could let him nibble on your finger.”

"Well then it looks like I'm _definitely_ not gonna try ‘n make him move. Little fiend." He grumbled, but was surprised to find that he sounded... not-agitated for once in his life. The ghost of a smirk appearing on his unshaven face. 

"Don't worry, Dean, he won't bite unless you bark." 

"Guess I'm gonna have to watch my tongue then." Dean laughed drily, settling down to tune into the show that was currently playing on the screen. 

Around twelve minutes into the show, Kevin started to get real comfortable, curling into a ball and falling asleep on Dean's apparently cushy lap. Surprisingly enough, Dean found himself becoming less and less annoyed and more calm and relaxed as time passed him by. It wasn't so bad having a dog sleep on you. It was actually kinda nice, if he was being honest. He eventually gave in and began covertly scratching behind the yorkie's ear, silently praying Seth wouldn't notice and say something. If he wasn't mistaken, Kevin let out a long sigh — if dogs could even _do_ such a thing — and melted into his gentle touch. He was so soft, so warm, so very— 

"Dean, are you— are you actually petting him?"

"No!" He growled, falling back into old habits and immediately regretting being so brash. "I mean...” he sighed, closing his eyes and feeling himself calm down considerably. "He's alright, I guess. Gotta admit he's kinda cute."

"Heh, thanks, Dean. I'm sure he appreciates your showing kindness to him." His bearded neighbor and acquaintance wore a shit-eating grin that made him feel seasick. Only this time, he knew he wasn't going to keel over and empty his stomach. He felt like he was... like he was safe, but on the brink of death at the same time. 

"Yeah, yeah. Just hope he doesn't get used to it. This is a one-time thing. Uh, me scratching him." 

"You keep telling yourself that, Ambrose. Everybody gives in eventually. I mean, just ask my friend Roman. He was skeptical of Kev until he looked into those little brown eyes and melted." After Seth finished speaking, Dean couldn't help but lift his steely gaze from his lap and look into his neighbor’s eyes and... No, he didn't melt. He merely thawed. 

Dean tore his gaze away from the tantalizing sight and redirected his attention to the super trashy, violent, drama-filled TV show he could hardly focus on anymore. How could he possibly focus on it when Seth fucking Rollins, the man he couldn't get off his mind as of late, was sitting a cushion away from him, and his... kinda sweet dog was laying on his lap, breaking down his walls brick by brick with a sledgehammer? He needed a better distraction or else he'd lose control of his emotions and end up either making out with his neighbor or crying like a little bitch.

"Mind passing me another blanket? It's fuckin’ freezing in here. Like Antarctica or some shit." 

"Yeah, sure." Seth passed him one of the impossibly soft, colorful blankets that sat in a neat pile on the wooden floor. He didn't mind the pattern, it was actually kinda esthetically pleasing to the eyes. "Lemme guess, you appreciate the gesture?" He asked with a raised brow and a teasing lilt to his deep and raspy voice. 

"I wasn't gonna say it, but yeah." Dean unfolded the blanket and draped it over Kevin's body, his lap, and Seth's as well. Guess his brain stopped fully functioning after eight. 

A small grin spread across Seth’s face, and Dean, not having enough self-control to keep himself from looking at the architects mouth, stared at him until Seth turned away to continue watching the last five minutes of the show to see who'd get bounced this week. Dean was glad to see Shannon was gone. The poor girl just wasn't cut out for the harsh reality show, and she missed her boyfriend and family. He was also surprised Shay would stand up for her the way she did, considering what an awful bitch she is 24/7. 

"You feel up to watching another episode of something, Dean? I don't really have a bedtime, and I usually also have trouble sleeping, so it’s up to you man.” 

"Guess I've got time for another. I mean, when I get tired all I have to do is walk across the street, so it’s no biggie.” 

"The Millionaire Matchmaker?"

Dean merely nodded in assent, continuing to scratch behind the ear of the yorkie sitting atop his lap for a good minute as he thought long and hard about what his next move should be "Think I gotta use the bathroom first though." 

"Down the hall and to the left." Seth replied as he picked up the remote and paused the show he was streaming off of Hulu. Dean mumbled something that _almost_ sounded like a thank you before setting Kevin on the cushion beside him and disappearing down the hall. He entered the bathroom and paced back and forth for a while, desperately trying to think of what he should fucking do! Should he go back out and sit beside his neighbor like he doesn't want to suck his face, or should he try and exit out the questionably large window that Seth really needs to board up for safety reasons? 

Without thinking over what he was gonna say beforehand, he pulled out his phone and clicked on the first contact he could think of. The one that belonged to someone he used to be a lot closer with before shit hit the fan. 

"Dean? Hello...?” Daniel said, sounding tired and worn out from work. Dean couldn’t find it in himself to feel bad because he _desperately_ needed someone to talk to. And who better to call then his one and only friend?

"Hey, Daniel. I know I don't call or visit as often as I should, but you know I love you man." 

"Are you dying or something? I don't mean to be rude, but you're acting kinda strange. What’s the matter, buddy?"

"I'm absolutely, 100% percent fucked and I need someone— I need _you_ to tell me everything's gonna be alright, Dan." 

"Yeah, no yeah. I’m here for you any time, any day, Dean. Just— gimme a sec. Brie's kinda sleeping already." He heard some rustling, probably bed sheets being peeled back, then a door closed, and his best friend's voice once more, only louder this time. "So what’s up?" 

"I-I think I... How did you know you, y'know, had a _thing_ for your girlfriend? Before you two got together, obviously." 

A sigh sounded from the other end of the line before Daniel began speaking once more. He sounded like a man who's fallen down the rabbit hole and oh-so sickeningly deep in love. "When we first started talking and got to hanging out one-on-one without her sister around, I... I always got this— this _feeling_ in the pit of my stomach. Uh, butterflies, right, that's it. Anyway, I would sweat, stutter, get all red in the face and make a goddamn fool of myself in front of her. I always found myself smiling around her, laughing, wanting to be close to her. That's how I knew that I was in love with her and that she was the one. Why'd you ask? Don't tell me _you_ found someone! What's their name? Are they nice? Are they cute? Boy or girl?" 

" _No_ , I didn't find someone, Daniel. I just— I kinda have the hots for my neighbor, Seth, and am having a hard time not pushing him down into the couch and fucking— ugh. What am I gonna do? Better question is, what _should_ I do? I'm at his house, hiding in the fucking bathroom like a little bitch and he's waiting for me to come out." 

"So it is a boy! Is he nice? Is he cute? You sound like you really like h—“ 

"Daniel." Dean deadpanned. 

"Sorry, sorry. I got a little excited there. Uh, I think you deserve to be happy, Dean-o. You've been single for a while now and, well, ever since you injured your shoulder wrestling... you've kinda lost all motivation to do anything but work. I'm your best friend, so I'm just gonna say it how it is. If this guy makes you happy, treats you right and gives you butterflies, you need to do what I did and let yourself fall. Okay, maybe I'm being a little over dramatic, but what I'm trying to say is if you feel like the time is right and he wants it too, you should kiss him. Also, no sex before monogamy. Go on a few dates, get into a nice, healthy relationship then see where it takes you. I just— I don't want you to ever feel the way you did after Renee... After she—“ 

"After she cheated on me and dumped me eight years ago? Yeah, definitely not gonna let that happen again. And uh... thanks for the advice, man. You're always there for me when I need you." 

"No problem, Dean. Though I would like to say I'm sorry for not making the effort to hang out with you all that often since your injury and being fired and all that... I'm not trying to make any excuses, but I've been hanging with Brie a lot lately and you obviously know she moved in with me last year and, uh, I'm gonna ask her to marry me."

"Good luck with that, Dan. I'm happy for you. Look, I gotta go now, but I'll call you tomorrow. Maybe we can schedule lunch or dinner sometime soon." 

"Kay, bye Dean! Good luck with your mystery man who you really need to show me a picture of when I see you!" 

"Later, man." Dean said before hanging up the phone. He was the most _him_ when he was with Daniel. He was his best friend, after all. Been stuck with him since high school. 

He wanted to be able to be that open and honest with someone very special to him one day. And maybe that special someone was a lot closer than he thought, if he took Daniel's words into consideration. His best friend with the goat-like visage was very wise and had a nice, healthy relationship with his soon-to-be fiancé, Brie. They have a unique love one could only hope to one day have. 

He took a deep breath and washed his hands before exiting the bathroom. How long had he taken in there? He could get away with five minutes, but how on earth could he possibly explain away _ten_? If he'd even taken that long. "Don't go in there." He plopped down on the couch, getting back under the blankets and getting comfy once again. It took a moment for his eyes to widen and to realize what he'd just fucking said. "Shit-"

"Yeah, I kinda thought that's what you were doing in there. I mean, you were in there a for a _while_ ," Seth huffed out a laugh, scratching the little furb— Kevin, who was sleeping atop his lap. "But it's totally fine, Dean. There's nothing a couple spritz of apple cinnamon air freshener can't fix." 

"Good to know." Dean mumbled, pulling his black hood over his head and lifting a hand to rub at his eyes. God, he was so stupid. 

Seth soon played the show while Dean got more comfortable on the couch and thought back on his conversation with Daniel. Was the technical term for the seasickness he experienced in his neighbor's presence really called 'butterflies'? He'd heard the cheesy term many a times in movies and TV, but was it a real thing? He'd always thought it was made up, some big load of crap show writers put in their stuff to make girls wanna watch it. And, sure, once upon a time he'd gotten kinda nervous and maybe a little... fluttery? around his old crushes, girlfriends, boyfriends, but never to quite the extent he is around Seth. And it scared him. He trusts Daniel fully, he knows how the man feels about his girlfriend, Brie, and what they share... well, cheesy as it sounds, could put any old romance novel to shame. 

His friend had given him some pretty solid advice. Advice that he should probably take into consideration, but probably won't follow. I mean, does Dean seem like the kinda guy who's gonna hold off on having sex until he and his partner are fully committed to one another? Does he strike you as the type of guy who'd feel out the moment and lean in for a sweet kiss when the moments right? No, he just isn't. He's not cut out for relationships. His ex-girlfriend from nearly a decade ago proved that point when she cheated on him and told him it was his fault because he was too much to handle. That he was too closed off and had nothing to offer in life other than a 'crappy career' in software engineering and his mile-long list of personal issues he seriously needed to sort out. Probably where most of his insecurities in relationships stem from. 

Once the anxiety-inducing thoughts slowly began slipping from his mind, he decided to scoot half a cushion closer to Seth. If it meant being closer to the guy _and_ being warmer, well, it made the seasickness or 'butterflies' worth it. "Damn, that guy's such a dick." He commented, shaking his head at the dude on the screen. The guy's a millionaire, one who Patti's trying to set up with a nice girl, and he's being a complete and utter misogynistic douchebag throughout his entire mixer. 

"Right?" Seth looked to him, holding his gaze for a very uncomfortable three seconds. "I would never objectify someone like that. He's just— ugh. I mean, how would you act if you were given the opportunity to have a mixer filled with a bunch or beautiful women— or, uh, men?" 

"Well, for starters, I definitely wouldn't look them up and down like that and ask invasive questions before I even get their fucking name." 

"See, I knew you were a good guy," Seth broke out into a small smile and bit his lip to try and hide it from Dean. It obviously didn't end up working, and Dean found that the man's soft looking lips framed by neatly trimmed facial hair looked oh-so inviting in that very moment. He just couldn't help but stare at them. "But tell me this, what would you do and say if you were given the opportunity to be the guest of honor at a mixer like that?" 

"Huh?" He mumbled, tearing his eyes away from his neighbors mouth to stare at his own lap and try to remember what he'd just said to him. 

"If you were in his shoes, what would you do?" 

"Well for starters, I would... I would have a mixer with men and women and try to learn everyone's name. Then I would talk to a small group of them, get to know them a little better and pick the one I connected with best for my Master Date. What about you?" 

"I'd probably end up doing the same thing, but with just men because... yeah." 

"What's your type anyway? You like 'em kinda short and thin? Or tall and kinda grizzly?" 

"Uh, well, I'm kinda tall myself, six-foot one, so it's kinda hard to find a guy who's taller than me... but yeah, I do find myself being more attracted to the more tall and masculine type of guys as opposed to the more... feminine and short ones, I guess." 

Funny, that description matches Dean pretty spot-on. Him being six-four and, based off Daniel's description of him, very masculine, dominant and kinda hairy. 

“What about body hair? Does it bother you much?" He asked, just for the hell of it. He himself had some chest hair, but he's been told many times by people he's hooked up with that they find it to be sexy. He didn't exactly believe them, but he'd like to think he didn't look like some sort of fucking wolverine. Unless, of course, he looked like Hugh Jackman... Now that was one sexy man. 

"You mean like, chest hair specifically?" Seth tilted his head to one side, contemplating his response. "I don't mind some chest hair, I actually prefer it. It's kinda nice to, y'know, run your fingers through it and stuff. God, I don't even know why I'm saying all this— ugh, it's embarrassing and you didn't even ask me for _that_ much information—“

"I also like chest hair. But that might just be because I'm kinda hairy myself. Look like a goddamn wolverine." 

"Oh, c'mon Dean. I've seen you... uh, not fully covered up before, and I know you have a good amount of body hair. It... it suits you. 

"Good. 'Cause waxings painful as hell and I'm... inactive and injured. So, really no point in getting it done." 

"Speaking of being inactive," Seth swallowed audibly. "Did you used to have to, uh, shave or wax when you wrestled?" 

"Sometimes. Though I think I usually made more money when I didn't. Guess people liked placing bets on hairier guys. Probably thought they were better at kicking ass than the ‘I-just-ripped-every-hair-follicle-out-of-my-entire-fucking-body’ type of guy."

"I know I'd put my money on you," Seth mumbled. "Uh, obviously I mean I would've bet on you 'cause you look very athletic and muscular and manly and— uh, yeah. That's the reason I said that. There's, uh, no other one... Sorry for— for rambling again. Forget what I said, Dean." 

"Stop apologizing, man. I don't... You should be more confident in your opinions of something. If you say something, mean it. Own it." Dean said slowly as to not mess up and say too much of what was on his mind in that very moment. "And, if I'm being honest, I'd probably bet on you, too." 

"Seriously? I haven't wrestled in years. Not since I busted up my knee and had to get surgery. I mean—“ 

"Wait, _you_ wrestled?" Dean gaped at him, surprised to hear that he actually had been a wrestler. I mean, he'd hinted at it once or twice and made Dean almost believe there was something about him he wasn't telling him, but he never truly _considered_ the possibility of him being like him. A 'career' ended due to a life-altering injury. Maybe he did have someone to confide in after all. 

"Uh..." Seth fell quiet, fiddling with the blanket covering his lap for a moment before making a decision. He turned the TV off and turned to face Dean. "I... I don't talk about it much since it was a really difficult time in my life... but you've been through something similar and I... I think I trust you. No, I _do_ trust you, Dean." 

"You can tell me, man. I won't judge. I also feel like I don't really have anyone to... uh, confide in. My friend Daniel tries his best to understand, but he just doesn't get it, y'know?" 

"Yeah, my best friend Roman doesn't understand either." Seth sighed, eyes glued to his lap. "Guess I'll start off by telling you a little about my backstory. In college, I wrestled as a bit of a side thing 'cause I really loved it but my dad didn't approve. Said I needed to get a job doing something that would actually make me some money. So, I studied architecture. And one day, when I was in the middle of a match, doing a move I'd done a million times before, a Sunset Flip, I ruined my right knee. Had to get surgery and that was the end of my hopefully up and coming 'career'." He closed his eyes for a moment, looking a little choked up before calm came over him. "It really took a toll on me. Having to go back home from college to live with my parents for a few months, not being able to do anything but look at the disappointment on my father’s face every time he looked at me. I know I'm talking a lot about myself, but... it really hurt that he never believed in me to begin with and that he was almost... he seemed glad, _relieved_ that I'd failed at my dream job and had to go back to college to get a degree. And, uh, here I am now, I guess." He shrugged, looking monumentally uncomfortable. 

"I'm..." Dean trailed off, getting a little choked up. He pushed onward, wanting to open up to Seth as he had to Daniel many, many years before. "I'm sorry, man. That's really rough." 

"Yeah," Seth frowned, hesitating a moment before speaking his mind. "Did I mention Randy's my ex-closeted-boyfriend?" 

"You're shitting me." Dean deadpanned. 

"No— no, I wouldn't, Dean." 

"So, he's some sorta closeted asshole who got on your bosses good side and turned on you?"

"Pretty much." 

"Damn, that sucks. If I still had a good arm I'd beat his ass for you." 

"Heh, thanks. But I don't need you fighting my battles, Ambrose. I can handle myself." 

"I dunno, it doesn’t really seem that way to me, Rollins. It seems to me like you need someone to... give him a stern talking-to, if you catch my drift." 

"No, Dean. _Please_ don't stop by my work like some sort of overprotective boyfriend and threaten my ex." Then Seth’s captivating deep brown eyes widened almost comically. "I didn't- I mean- Doing something like that would be very boyfriend-ish and that's not what we are, obviously." The poor guy was a wreck, blinking rapidly down at his lap. It was kinda adorable and maybe even a teensy bit endearing, if Dean could even use that word to describe his neighbor he was barely even _friends_ with. Though he'd like to be able to call him that. Hell, he said he was _sorry_ for him. Dean doesn't do that for just anyone. He felt the intense urge to lean in and kiss him right then and there, but restrained himself because it didn't feel quite right. Or he at least wasn't getting that vibe from his dog-loving, nervous wreck of a neighbor. Sure, the guy just babbled about them not being boyfriends which made it seem like he wished they were, but he just didn't seem ready to take such a big leap. 

"Fine, fine. I'll just be a overprotective friend instead." 

"Are we?" Seth asked, sounding hopeful. "'Cause I sure wouldn't mind being your friend. You're actually... you're a really great listener. Thanks for letting me unload on you and not making me feel like I'm lesser just because I—“

"Had a life-altering, career-ending injury? Yeah, I know how that feels. Sucks." 

"Exactly what I was gonna say," Seth chuckled. "You wanna unload on me? It's only fair since I chewed your ear off." 

He felt the urge to comment on how goddamned _filthy_ his neighbor's words were, but held back since it would most likely make him suffocate from the sexual tension permeating throughout the room. He really, _really_ wanted to kiss and push Seth into the couch cushions, get him all hot and bothered before sliding his hands up his shirt and undressing him. Getting to see more of his toned, sexy body and get to slide his fingers through his baby-soft chest hair. "Nah, think I'm good for now. Your couch is comfortable and I might just... pass out right here." 

"Uh-uh, not an option, Ambrose. You're gonna go home and fall asleep in your soft... warm bed that won't try to wrench your shoulder back out of its socket." 

"I'm tired." Dean mumbled, eyes falling shut for a moment before he forced them back open. 

"Dean. Go home." 

"Can't. Too tired." 

"Look, I'll help you. I'll, uh, I'll walk you home." Seth set Kevin aside and attempted to stand up only to fall back onto the couch out of pure exhaustion. 

"See, even you can't move." 

"Dammit." Seth allowed his eyes to fall shut and curled up in the corner of the couch. Dean picked Kevin off the middle cushion separating him from his neighbor and scooted closer to him. The little puppy curled into a ball in the foot of space separating them. "I guess you can stay if... if you...”

"Seeing as I can't move...”

"But... but you just did, Dean."

"M'cold... Stop talking." He whined, so exhausted that he allowed himself to scoot even closer to his neighbor until his head was leaning against his shoulder. 

"Dean." 

"Yeah?" 

"Are we... Does all this mean we're friends now?" 

"Don't know. Not really used to this whole friendship thing, but based off past experiences, I usually like to take things pretty slow." 

"I can do slow." Seth whispered. Dean adjusted his blanket and felt Kevin move out of the way so that there really wasn't any space between them. And, if he wasn't mistaken, the little yorkie sat down on his owners lap. 

He felt his eyes slide shut as his tired body shut down for the night. He knew for certain that his overactive imagination would conjure up something embarrassing as hell to dream about while he lay beside the man he has the hots for. Those annoying 'butterflies' Daniel had told him all about were already affecting him once again. Though he much preferred the term 'seasickness', as it sounded a hell of a lot less like something a twelve year old girl would experience in middle school whenever she was in the presence of her crush.


End file.
